


What's a Soul Worth?

by Writer_by_Heart



Series: Made a Deal Without Looking At the Fine Print [1]
Category: Christian Bible, Original Work, Religion & Lore - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst and Humor, Dark Comedy, Deal With the Devil, OC is kinda messed up, Satan's Sass, Soul Selling, and lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_by_Heart/pseuds/Writer_by_Heart
Summary: "I don’t need to play a fiddle do I?" The girl asks, cocking her head to a degree."Cute," he sneers behind his smile.





	

 

She holds a towel to her cut hand, watching the red seep into the soft white through the dark room. Her dull expression is illuminated only by the lit candles on the floor in a circular pattern. The room reeks from the awful smelling candles and sigil drawn in her own blood on the floor. Though the thing that stinks the most was the mixture burning in a bowl inside the center of the large symbol. Words of Latin slip past her lips as she closes her eyes, a language she doesn’t completely comprehend roll off her tongue. Her voice trembles as she speaks, but her tone stays firm till the last word is said. She pauses, waiting in the silence. Holding the towel as much as her breath, she opens her eyes to…

To absolutely nothing.

She sighs, frustrated and disappointed, and turns away from the mess. Carelessly, she tosses the bloody towel to her clothes basket in the corner of the room. It misses by foot, but she doesn’t care enough to pick it up.

“How messy,” a voice of lavender and sin comments from behind her. She jerks back around to find a finely dressed man prompted gracefully on her unmade bed. He’s sitting with his legs crossed fashionably with his hands supporting him up on each side of his frame. The man isn’t looking to her, instead his gaze is flickering around her dark room. For the first time in a long time, the girl feels self-conscious under his judgement.

“It worked?” She whispers, staring wide-eyed at the very proof that it did before her.

“Either that or I’m a serial killer who snuck into your room.” The monster in disguise of man muses, but then frowns in thought. “Actually, the latter would be safer.”

She doesn’t step forward, but is too scared to step back. Taking a deep breath, she tries to steel her nerves the best she can. “I want to make a deal.” She says, trying to sound confident.

The Devil smiles and it sends shivers down the girl’s spine. “Of course you do. Why else would call me? To swap cake recipes?” He sits straighter, entwining his fingers in his lap. “Now,” he begins, “our deal?”

“I don’t need to play a fiddle do I?” The girl asks, cocking her head to a degree.

“Cute,” he sneers behind his smile. Shaking his head, “I just need an agreement and a handshake.”

“And my soul,” she adds when he doesn’t.

He nods. “And your soul.”

“You get to live your apple pie life with your little wish and when it’s all said and done I get my payment for my services. Simple and sweet.” His lips curl into a grin that reminds the girl of a viper coiling around it’s prey and sinking its poisonous fangs into the small rodent’s flesh. “But,” he lifts his finger, chuckling as if he’s making a joke, “No refunds.”

She gulps, but nods in understanding. She has already weighed her options and consequences beforehand. She knows what she’s doing.

She hopes.

“Okay.” She quivers and comes closer. “My wish is…”

“Money? Power? Vengeance? The world’s knowledge at your fingertips?” The Devil guesses, brow raised. "I've heard it all before."

“A friend. I want a friend.” She finishes, looking at the demon before her with hope. She stretches out her hand for him to take.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Lucifer levels her with a look in his eyes that she can’t place, all traces of dark humor gone from his features. He peers at her silently, his impassive stare with intensity of hellfire and utter madness. She feels such a look strike straight to her very soul he wishes to claim. Calmly, before she can change her mind, he grasps her hand in a firm grip. His touch is cold as death. It makes her gasps, her shuddering breath escaping her lips.

“You will not.” His soft voice booms in the quiet room like thunder, the earth could tremble with it. “You will not any longer.” He promises, leaning in towards her. She does not move as he continues the last of his words.

“I will make sure of it.”

 

 

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for class, but I liked it enough to put here. Whenever I write or read anything about Lucifer, I imagine him as a sassy little shit.
> 
> Any thoughts? Comment!
> 
> EDIT: Hey guys. So months back, I submitted this story into the Purdue Writing Competition and it won second place! I was so honored and inspired, I wrote more. This now has a second part you can check out. Thank you everyone for your support.


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